The Sparrow
by 10 million tiny bees
Summary: I was on the bus when it happened- but I guess if you were looking at the technicalities of things, it started happening a few days prior. The dreams, that is- the ones that started all this. I didn't ever expect to go from being a normal girl to being the key to saving the universe. But here I am, being stared down my the Avengers themselves. Welcome to my life.
1. Chapter 1

I was on the bus when it happened- but I guess if you were looking at the technicalities of things, it started happening a few days prior. The dreams, that is- the ones that started all this.

Typically I had normal enough dreams; that is, ones about falling from great heights or losing all of your teeth. But just a few days ago, they started getting… disturbing.

The first one wasn't too bad, really. I was sitting in a room, the only light on me, the rest of the place shrouded in darkness. A face appeared from the darkness, one that seemed to be made of living rocks- a mass of grey, it began to speak.

"You have four days time. Say goodbye to your loved ones."

I woke up in a cold sweat that night at around 3am, and didn't go to sleep afterwards.

The night after that was even worse, but nothing I shouldn't have been able to handle.

I was in the room again, but this time there were two lights- the one above me, and one that was on a couple feet away, revealing someone who looked vaguely familiar, I just couldn't figure out why.

She looked to be around 18, with glowing purple eyes, wavy purple hair, and a suit that was black with purple streaks running down the sides of her arms and legs. I couldn't see her back, but it looked like it was cut backless, with rims of purple around each seam. She was staring straight at me, looking like she was sorry for something, though for the life of me I couldn't figure out what.

"You have three days left. Use it, Eve. You'll wish you had later."

I woke up much more gently this night, tears running down my face while I tried to figure out how I recognized her. I spent the rest of the day at home, feigning an illness so I could stay home from school. My friends were worried. I was too.

I went to sleep more apprehensively this time, making sure to stay away from anything horror-related and using a freshly dried blanket, in hopes of having better luck sleeping.

It didn't work.

I was, once again, in the room- but this time it was fully illuminated. I could see a row of mirrors on the wall furthest from me, and a door that looked like it was fairly old in the far right corner. The handle was coated in cobwebs.

There was someone else in the room with me this time, too, but it wasn't the girl from before. It was a boy that looked to be around my age, with brown hair and hazel eyes, looking at me with a worried expression.

"Two days, Eve. I wish we could give you longer, but Tony says you need to be here as soon as possible."

I stood up and walked over to him, but my arm passed straight through his body.

"You're not actually here right now. We managed to bring your dream body here while you're asleep, but nothing else."

I nodded, even though I didn't understand at all.

When my alarm went off, I almost cried as the room around me dissolved.

I turned it off, opting to stay home again and research dreams.

The only thing I got was remedies for insomnia, and ways to test if you're lucid dreaming or not.

I went to bed early that night, wanting to know as much as I could before the dreams stopped- after all, the people I had spoken to were counting down.

I was in the room again, and this time there was a team of people standing in front of me.

The girl from before, the boy from before, and a man made of rocks who could've been the face I saw the first night. Standing alongside them were a man wearing something that looked ridiculously patriotic, a woman with bright red hair in a leather catsuit, a man in what looked like a red and gold metal suit with no helmet, and a man with a quiver strapped to his back. The woman smiled and stepped closer to me.

"One day left, little one. Sometime tomorrow you're going to come here for real. Be ready."

I shot bolt upright as soon as she was done talking, breathing heavily and sweating into my bed sheets.

After I got my heart rate under control, I stumbled to the shower and turned it on the lowest setting before stepping in and relishing the coolness on my overheated body.

My mother made me go to school that day, saying that I'd missed too much and that I could sleep when I got home.

So now I'm on the bus, squished between the window and the man next to me, who had a suspicious-looking line of powder under his nose and deep circles around his eyes.

I figured I didn't look much better, seeing as I had gotten a grand total of 13 hours of sleep for the past 4 days.

We hit a speed bump, and as I felt myself be lifted off the seat slightly from the force of it, my chest pulsed- a deep, aching pulse, like someone had grabbed my heart itself and squeezed.

I gasped, my hand shooting to where it had started as the pain died down.

Then again, another pulse, this one seemingly coming from some part of me that was more deeply imbedded than my heart. I looked down to where my hand was clutching my chest, and it had started to glow a faint purple.

I began hyperventilating, and as I stood up and pushed past the man next to me it pulsed again, the glow visibly getting stronger. I stumbled down the aisle, more than once having to rest against a seat as my very core throbbed.

When I got to the front, the driver seemed to know what I wanted and he braked, opening the doors with a concerned look until he saw the glow of my chest from under my fingernails.

His jaw dropped, and I ignored his looks and just left the bus, making my way to the closest alley and sinking to the ground.

The pain was getting worse, and I removed my hand from my shirt, surprised to see small spots of blood where my fingernails had been piercing my skin.

There was one final pulse, a great surge of purple energy that ebbed from my chest and left my veins colored violet, my eyes burning with a power I had no control over.

I went completely blind for a second, the sounds around me fading away into a high-pitched buzzing, before that, too, died away, leaving me seemingly floating in a senseless expanse.

 **Don't worry guys, next chapter will have everyone in it! This is my first ever attempt at a serious fanfic, so please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

When I woke up, I found myself in an alleyway, not unlike the one I had 'fallen asleep' in. It was slightly cramped, a dumpster to my left and a noisy street to my right, packed with pedestrians. Nobody seemed to notice me.

Good.

I pushed myself up from my fetal position, slowly unfurling my limbs and flinching every time one of my joints popped.

My muscles ached as though they haven't been used in a long while, and from the slight buildup of snow falling off of my body, it seemed like they hadn't.

Wait a second- _snow_? In July?

Where am I?

 _When_ am I?

Standing proved to be a challenge, as my left leg had gone entirely numb and my right leg started to cramp as soon as I applied pressure to it.

So I stood against the wall, clinging a windowsill with all my might, the cold beginning to seep through my thin shirt and leggings.

It wasn't until the cramp finally passed that I allowed myself to stand on my own two legs alone, a little dizzy but stable nonetheless. I slowly began walking, putting one foot in front of the other toward the busy sidewalk, occasionally holding a hand against the brick wall to my right as a wave of dizziness passed over me.

Stepping out of the cover of the alley left my ears ringing; I had no idea how much the brick had shielded my suddenly-painfully-sensitive ears from the chaos of the street. I could hear every car within a half-mile radius of me, every conversation, every footstep- hell, I could even hear someone's phone go off in an apartment complex two blocks away.

It was disorienting, to say the least.

I pushed through it, turning toward the first thing I could find that would provide me with some warmth- or, at least, a bathroom.

Reaching my destination, I pushed the door open with fingers that looked a little too blue for my liking and stood in the doorway, relishing the sudden blast of heat coming from within.

"Hey, kid, get out of the doorway! You're lettin' all the cold in!"

I jumped at the man yelling at me in what was clearly a New York accent, saying a quick "Sorry!" and scrambling inside.

I walked to the counter of what I quickly discovered to be a coffee shop, and as I scanned the options I came to the conclusion that everything on the menu was either far too pompous or was named so strangely I couldn't even hope to guess what it was.

"You know what you want, kid?"

The same voice from earlier drew my gaze away from the menu and to a slightly paunchy man wearing a red apron that stretched tight over his shirt.

"Uhhh…"

"C'mon kid, I don't have all day."

My eyes scanned the menu, landing on the rich person equivalent of a dollar menu until I found what I was looking for. At that same moment, a chorus of whispers exploded behind me as the bell over the door rang. I looked toward the commotion for a moment, only seeing some guy in a suit with a goatee. He looked to be the kind of guy who belonged in this place, with its marble counters and gourmet cappuccino machine.

"Umm.. I'll have a hot chocolate, please. Plenty of whipped cream."

He stared at me after that, not yet making a move to begin making my drink.

"Are you gonna pay for that, or expect me to pity you in front of Tony Stark?"

I looked back to the man who had walked in, and realised that 1. There were an awful lot of people taking selfies with him in the background, and 2. I didn't have any money.

"I don't… I mean, I didn't…. Can you hold on for a second, please? I need to…"

I started searching the threadbare jacket frantically, money being the last thing I thought of after I woke up in a strange alleyway covered in snow.

I finally found a small wad of cash in my pocket, but not before I had a line of 3 or 4 angry upper-class people behind me.

I winced every time one of them tapped their foot on the tile, which didn't go unnoticed by both the barista and the man that was still actively being fawned over. He glanced in my direction, taking in my thin clothes and the small wad of ones I had a death grip on.

"If you don't pay I'm going to kick you out."

I started counting out my cash, inhaling shakily when I realized there were only $4 in what I had assumed was a lot more. My total was $7.31.

I started to put the money back in my pocket, folding it carefully and thinking of what I would tell the barista, although I was pretty sure he could easily figure out the situation from his standpoint (three feet away from me).

"I'm sorry, I can't-"

My half-hearted excuse was cut off from someone slapping a 20 on the counter in front of me, so loud and sudden that I jumped and landed on someone's foot.

"Sorry! Sorrysorrysorry-"

I was cut off again by the man from earlier pushing me out of the way, placing both hands down on the counter.

"I'll be paying for her. Make her drink a large."

I realized quickly that he was the person I stepped on, because he was leaning heavily on his right foot and had a wet spot on the chest of his suit where my hair, soaked from melted snow, had hit him.

I also realized, just as quickly, that he was _paying for my drink_.

What?

The barista looked just as confused, his gaze moving rapidly between me, the man, and the money on the counter. He finally shook himself out of his reverie, sliding the bill into the cash register and counting out change.

"Thank you."

The man looked down at me, as if finally realizing I was still there, and then looked back down to the money waiting in the barista's hand.

He folded the paper money around the coins, tucked the receipt into his pocket, and then held out the money to me while the barista started making my drink. I took it with slightly shaky hands, my fingers still stiff from cold.

He led me to where you were supposed to pick up your drinks by my elbow, standing tall the whole time, his sunglasses never leaving his face. I squinted, trying to figure out who this guy was. People kept whispering behind us, and I could barely make out what they were saying over the sound of the machines behind me.

" _-Is that his daughter? I heard he's slept around a lot-"_

" _-Does she even know who he is? She's not freaking out at all-"_

" _-What a loser, that girl's probably homeless-"_

I stopped listening after the last one, instead turning my attention to where the barista was just finishing my hot chocolate. He held it out to the man who still hadn't moved first, but the man only shook his head and pointed at me.

"The drink's hers. I only come here because Nat likes those chocolate croissant things."

I took the drink from the bartender and walked over to a table, sitting down and stirring the whipped cream into the hot chocolate in a kind of trance.

I was almost immediately snapped out of it when the man (wow, I really need to get a name from this guy) sat down next to me, now equipped with a small paper bag and another wad of change, which he handed to me.

I slid it back to him, shaking my head.

"Thank you, but I can't take your money. You already bought me a drink and gave me the change from that."

He seemed perplexed, like maybe he's never been turned down before. He had opened his mouth as if he was about to speak, but at that second a bright flash went off to my right.

It startled me, bad, and an instinct I didn't even know was there stirred within me, pushing to the surface.

Another flash went off, and that seemed to start a flood of bright bursts of light.

I wanted it to stop.

"Stop it-"

Nobody heard me. Or, if they did, nobody cared.

"Guys, stop! Please!"

The instinct continued to push itself up as the neverending storm of flashes berated me. A more logical part of me knew that it was cameras, but whatever had just woken up inside of me was feral, primal.

It wanted them to stop, to.

"I said stop it!"

They kept coming, seeming to grow more intense seeing my distress. I guess a crying teenager made a good headline.

I couldn't see, couldn't hear anything, could barely think-

That's when I snapped.

I held my hand up to the crowd of reporters, realizing only then that I had begun to hyperventilate. I felt a hand on my shoulder, but it seemed like it was miles away from me.

"I said, _STOP_!"

My world went white, and I felt the same energy that had begun in my chest travel to my fingertips before breaking free, flooding my senses with a burning smell and rendering my body completely numb.

When my vision finally returned, I was standing in the middle of a crater. Time was moving at half the speed it usually did; my arm was still extended and covered with what looked like tiny bolts of violet lightning.

My veins were purple, my eyes burned, and I suddenly became aware of the fact that I wasn't on the ground anymore.

At that revelation, I felt the world crashing back down on me, time seeming to speed back up to normal as the sound of screams hit my ears like bricks.

I sank back to the ground, my arm slowly going back to normal and the burning in my eyes receding. I took a second to look around, finally seeing a group of reporters cowering behind a red-and-gold shield.

The shield folded down into the size of a pocket knife as I watched, revealing a man who seemed to be made of the same material as the shield was. He stood up from where he was crouched defensively and started striding toward me, lifting a hand where the palm was aimed directly at my chest.

"I don't- who are you? I mean, I didn't- what are you doing?"

I stammered out what was originally supposed to be a sentence, but a mixture of nerves and adrenaline turned it into anxiety-ridden rambling.

The man's faceplate slid up into the helmet, giving me a full view of the man who had, not 5 minutes ago, bought me a large hot chocolate.

"I am Iron Man, and you just blew up a store full of Natasha's favorite croissants."

I realized then that the red palm facing me was lighting up with blue energy, and something told me it probably wasn't good.

So, I did the only thing any self-respecting teenager who had just woken up in what they were pretty sure was an alternate reality would do:

I ran.


	3. Chapter 3

_The smell of cinnamon burnt fervently within my nose. My muscles ached from disuse, and my eyes stung; I had been holding in my sadness for far too long. But I couldn't cry in front of her. I was the strong one. I held myself together for her- during the divorce, when she lost both her boyfriends, when she was being interviewed for a high-security job- but this was too much. This would be the straw that broke the camel's back, the single drop of water that broke the dam._

 _And really, it was very insignificant, that drop- but it was a drop nonetheless._

 _My mother hadn't been able to come to my chorus concert._

 _None of my family could._

 _I stood on the stage alone, singing of Green Ravello and music in the night, with nobody there to hear me._

 _The audience members were there for their own children. Their own friends._

 _Why should they care about the stupidly tall kid in the back?_

 _I would cry. Anyone other teenager in my position would._

 _But I can't do that to her. I have a practiced "I'm okay" on my lips, ready to leap out at a moment's notice._

 _She doesn't offer much of a sorry. She tells me not to say anything to my father, so he wouldn't yell at her for it._

 _It's not like he could do anything; I told him three weeks in advance that it was happening and he wasn't there, either._

 _So I sit in silence, staring out the window to hide the glossiness in my eyes._

I jerked awake, tears running down my cheeks at the familiar memory that just passed before my eyes.

It took me a second to remember where I was and why it was so dark, but eventually my memory returns, telling me that I'm hidden in a dumpster, away from prying eyes and the self-proclaimed superhero Iron Man, who is currently trying to hunt me down for blowing up a coffee shop, bookstore, and the pharmacy of a Wal-Mart.

Fun.

I pulled myself up to my elbows as my eyes adjusted to the interior of my (thankfully empty) hiding spot/ pseudo hotel room for the night. The lid was only about three feet away from the bottom, and it would be easy to catch me if I was found inside.

Which is exactly why I chose it.

I had already proven that I could hold my own at the coffee shop a week ago, and since then whatever magic had taken over my body refused to dissipate completely, constantly buzzing at the edges of my conscience and focusing in on random details that I'm sure regular people wouldn't be able to notice.

Then came the bookstore incident, in which someone had recognized me from the coffee shop and had started to berate me, leading to a swarm of people all shouting questions (and obscenities) at me. I could feel it coming this time, and managed to scale down the intensity of the blast, but afterwards I had to run for a while to keep away from the angry mob that, this time, wasn't hindered by awe from having one of the Avengers there with them.

Only a couple days later, I had found a 24-hour Wal-Mart and I had decided to try and find somewhere to sleep inside, in the warmth and the shelter.

I had a bad dream that night, and woke up to police handcuffing me to the bench I was laying on.

That time I was _trying_ to summon the energy, if just a bit, just enough to break out of the chains.

It didn't go according to plan, as you might have expected. I ended up demolishing ¼ of that poor, unsuspecting Wal-Mart.

That about brings us up to date, with me in a dumpster hiding from cops.

I pulled myself into a sitting position, wedging my fingers as gently as I could under the lid and pushing it up just enough to see what time it was.

It was still dark, and there weren't many people around. Likely around 4 A.M., it was a Saturday if I was correct and Friday nights usually last until 2.

I pushed the lid up as much as I dared, crawling out of the dumpster silently and landing on the balls of my feet, then softly closing the lid and dropping to the ground.

I glanced around the alleyway I was in, making sure it was clear before poking my head out the back end and slowly tip-toeing toward a chain link fence 10 feet away.

I scaled it slowly, sucking in breath and freezing at every sound, terrified of bullets striking my skin.

When I finally reached the top, I fell onto all fours onto the other side and began to sprint, running toward a half-demolished building that looked like something big had crashed into it.

I slid inside, holding my breath for a few moments and testing the ground's strength by prodding it with my foot.

When nothing happened, I let out the air in my lungs and made my way further in the building, to what looked like some kind of main hall. It was large, with a cracked dome ceiling and grand, shattered windows that I'm sure were once beautiful.

Perfect for what I needed to do.

I walked to the center of the dome, holding my hands out in front of me and mentally prodding the presence in the back of my head.

It pulsed, but not like the first time I felt it- that had been brutal, an unwanted guest forcing itself into my body, fusing with my soul. This was soft, like a long-lost friend saying hello.

I prodded it again, and after another positive response I tried tugging on it, just a little. I willingly came forth, and all at once the room was filled with a bright purple glow, my veins coming alive with the most beautiful, pure violet I've ever seen.

I tried focusing it in my hands, the glow growing stronger in my fingertips and weaker the closer it was to my shoulders.

I looked down, noticing that my legs were glowing in the same way, my veins showing through the thin leggings I had been wearing since I arrived here. A lock of hair fell in my face, and when I saw it I froze.

It was purple, too.

Somehow longer, with a slight wave to it- just like the girl from my dream.

I was becoming her.

The light in my fingertips suddenly became painfully hot, and I cried out, a projectile of energy firing into the wall opposite me. The energy pulsed, as if it was apologetic, before timidly returning.

I brushed my hair back, straightening my shoulders and holding my hands out in front of me. The energy pulsed softly, telling me _lets do this_.

I focused on the palms of my hands, and in each of them, orbs of shaky violet formed. Aiming one at a painting of some dude in a toga, I threw it- and hit the lady next to him.

I'll have to work on that.

I aimed the other at the same dude, tossing this one gently in the air and catching it like a softball before hurling it at the guy's face.

It left a scorch mark on his right arm, closer than last time but still not close enough.

Discouraged, I switched modes. If this purple stuff, which I've decided to name "magic" just for the heck of it, can make projectiles, then it should be able to help with offense, too…

I flipped my hands to where my palms were facing me, and focused the magic into the backs of them. When the glow got to where it looked strong enough, I tried to release it in a small amount, just enough to cover my body.

A shield made of magic materialized in front of me, large enough to cover my head and torso but leaving my legs bare.

Perfect.

I let it dissipate, taking a deep breath before tossing an orb directly above me and throwing up the shield again as it came back down. The orb seemed to absorb itself into the shield, strengthening it for a moment before I allowed it to flicker out.

I continued in this fashion for a few more minutes, throwing balls of magic at the man on the wall until I was finally able to hit him directly in the head.

At that moment, the wall began to shake- and it hit me then that the structural integrity of the wall was probably bad enough before I started hurling orbs of destructive purple lightning.

I was barely allowed a moment to process this thought before the ceiling came down.


	4. Chapter 4

I can imagine it was probably more than alarming for a building that had been deemed safe by FEMA to have suddenly collapsed in the middle of the night, but the poor firefighters that found me looked absolutely terrified when they dug a teenage girl out of the wreckage.

Granted, that could've just been the concussion talking, but still.

I was fussed over in an ambulance for about 15 minutes until they were able to get enough dust off of me to identify me as the "rogue mutant" who has attacked Tony Stark in a coffee shop.

Bastards.

They still had to fix me up, no matter who I was, so I was sent to a private room in a locked corridor of a hospital in, seemingly, the middle of nowhere.

They said I would be put on trial as soon as I was deemed healthy enough.

I said bullshit, I'm getting out of here the second I'm strong enough to.

My nurse was nice enough, she always made sure I had my meals on time and talked to me about my family to distract me every time I had to have a blood test.

I'm pretty sure she wasn't told what I was or what I had allegedly done.

Three days after I had been admitted to the hospital, I already felt fine enough to attempt my escape.

The hospital staff weren't dumb enough to give me a room with windows, but I knew for a fact that there was one overlooking the road outside down the hallway to my room.

I also knew that they had posted guards outside my room to prevent me from doing what I was about to do.

Unfortunately for them, they hadn't planned on me being able to shoot deadly balls of purple magic- they just thought I could blow things up if I wanted to. The little amount of footage they had from my three incidents only showed the outsides of the buildings they occured in; any cameras inside were destroyed in the blast.

I'm sure that Iron Man guy probably recorded things in his hemet, but I was also pretty sure he wasn't the type to release footage of what happened with the suit on unless deemed absolutely necessary.

I turned off the heart monitor next to me, pulling the clip off my finger and discarding it so that it swung violently from the machine. The next thing to go was my I.V., which was a little more painful- I was never good with needles. Then came the patches on my chest and head, which I was told were for monitoring my electrical pulses, because apparently mutants gave off an excess when their body was rejecting things- like the I.V. full of mutant-power-stopping liquid.

I was currently powerless, but I knew there was a stash of liquid that reversed the I.V.'s effects just behind the locked door to my hallway.

It shouldn't be too hard to get through the door; all I had to do was take down two heavily trained soldiers and steal one of their I.D. badges.

Or I could just rip on of their lanyards from their neck, bolt down the hallway, grab the liquid, and shoot the soldiers down with my badass purple magic.

That seems a little easier.

I crept to the door, testing the handle to make sure it was unlocked. I opened the door an inch, then two, expecting gunfire every second.

It never came.

Both the guards at the door were completely stationary, acting as if I wasn't even there. I even went so far as to wave a hand in front of their faces, but there was no response.

After I realized that I was basically free, so long as the lanyard I yanked from Guard #1 worked, I wasted no time in bolting down the hallway.

The soft _beep_ that came from the I.D. scanner sounded more beautiful than anything I've ever heard before, and the following green light was stunning. I slid open the door as fast as I could and spun around to face the locked glass case displaying a pure white liquid labelled "I.V. #14 Reversing Fluid". Kind of a dumb name, but it wasn't me who labelled the thing.

I grabbed a vial of the stuff and a syringe, quickly filling it with as much of the reverser as I could fit in the needle. I had no idea how much was needed for the dosage of "I.V. #14" I had been given, but I figured a little more couldn't hurt. Right?

I flicked the needle a couple times to rid the solution within of any air while I walked to the window back inside my hallway. The guards were still there, completely stoick, still unmoved from where I saw them last. It was a little disturbing, but I guess better than them actually attacking me.

Standing in front of the window, I looked out on the barren road and completely empty surrounding next to it. I was in the middle of a desert, deemed dangerous just because I blew up a building or three. Who hasn't?

Taking a few deep breaths, I plunged the needle into the crook of my elbow and emptied it into my bloodstream, hissing slightly at the sting and then the burning of the fluid working its way through my body.

I could tell it worked, though- after a few seconds, I felt a friendly, familiar pulse blossom within my chest, and I gratefully poked it back with a mental finger.

The veins on my arms started to glow, and I dropped the now-empty syringe to survey the calm before the storm I was about to cause.

Then, I unleashed hell.


	5. Chapter 5

The thin plexiglass gave way under my blast much easier than I had expected. Fueled by adrenaline and sheer excitement that _holy crap I'm almost free_ , I looked at the ground once, stepped back a few steps, and jumped.

My feet, encased in nothing but thin socks, sailed through the air, and for a moment I was around in midair, I saw that the guards had finally, _finally_ started moving again. One of them yelled at the other in some language I didn't understand, and they both started shooting.

The bullets seemed to move in slow motion, and I was able to throw up a shield that they pinged harmlessly off of before my back smacked against the ground with a great thud.

My chest seemed to pulse once, and the shield fizzled out as I realized what was happening.

The magic was giving me its own strength.

In mere seconds, I was left with nothing but a dull headache. Seconds more, and I was perfectly healed again.

The men started shooting at me again, and more spilled from the hospital's front entryway, all of them opening fire towards me. I put up another shield, this one considerably duller than the last, and pushed myself to my feet as I tried to move closer to the hospital.

Maintaining a magic shield with one hand was hard, but attempting to conjure and properly shoot balls of the same magic with the other was definitely impossible.

I decided to start running, the orb in my right hand fizzing out as I ran to my left, circling around the hospital with a wide berth. The soldiers followed, but I was running in zig-zags and they all seemed more scared of losing their lives than their jobs, and I'm sure none of them were great aims anyways.

When I finally reached the back of the hospital, I watched the violet glow condense into the palms of both my hands and form a pretty decent-sized death ball.

Perfect for my current needs.

Launching it through the back door, I immediately formed another shield to cover my body, blocking the heavy gunfire that was now landing dangerously close to me now that I was stationary. After a few seconds, I started running again, my almost-bare feet pounding against the cement as I raced toward one of the ambulances in the parking lot. I got lucky again, the keys were already in the ignition and it had no alarms.

Having absolutely no idea how to drive, I slammed on the first pedal my foot touched and was sent flying forwards, the vehicle leaping over a curb and veering unsteadily on the road.

I had no idea what to do, no idea where to go, and there were no doubts I had a bounty on my head. Taking a moment to relax and realize I still needed to put on my seatbelt, I noticed the marking on my arm where I had injected the cure. Purple light coalesced around the small hole, a tiny bruise already beginning to form from the intensity of which the needle went in.

I sped up a bit, my foot pressing the pedal down as far as it would go and laughing when my heart began to beat wildly.

I glanced into the rearview mirror for the first time, my hands immediately clenching on the steering wheel at the sight that greeted me.

It was a girl who looked ghastly pale and thin, with vibrant glowing purple eyes and hair that were fading to brown and black by the second. It took me a moment to realize she was me, and by that time I had begun to veer off the road badly.

Yanking the steering wheel back on course, I released a hand to run it through my wildly off-color hair. My fingers snagged on tangles, and I started trying to comb through it for a few minutes before realizing it was pointless.

My mouth hung open stupidly, the glowing purple eyes of the girl that couldn't have been me staring back every time I blinked. My stomach began to growl dangerously, as if I hadn't eaten in days.

I stayed on the road like that for a few minutes before seeming to finally snap out of it, and then I slowed to a stop on the side of the dull, cracked asphalt.

This was an ambulance, after all- it probably had some kind of food in it. And a hairbrush, somewhere. Any maybe shoes.

I opened as many compartments as I could find, looting the front seat for supplies before moving to the back compartment, where a patient would be kept. The doors swung open after a little tugging, and I managed to find a small plastic container of different types of granola bars, a couple gallons of water, a bag of disposable combs, and an E.M.T. suit that looked a couple sizes too big on me but would work with a belt and rolled-up cuffs.

Fifteen minutes later and I was back on the road, this time with clean clothes, tangle-free hair, and a full stomach. The initial adrenaline from breaking out of the hospital and stealing an ambulance was beginning to wear off, and I found it harder and harder to stay awake. It wasn't like driving was helping me much, since the road and all its surroundings were the exact same, so I took it upon myself to start up a one-person game of I Spy.

 _I spy something brown._

 _Is it the road?_

 _You guessed it! It's the road._

The game quickly ended once I realized I was extremely limited in things I can spy.

I sighed, shaking the leg that wasn't pressed on the gas pedal and tapping my fingers against the steering wheel.

It was going to be a long drive.


	6. Chapter 6

"Tony, I'm not saying you're obsessed, but you really should be doing other things than searching for a teenage girl… like sleeping, for instance."

Tony sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and looking up from where he was examining a news article. "It's not a wild goose chase, Sam. I swear, I saw that kid blow up a coffee shop."

Sam put a hand on Tony's shoulder, using the other one to close out of the news article ("Coffee Shop Boiler Explodes in Freak Accident, Nitrous Gas Causes Hallucinations"). "Look, Tony, if it makes you feel better, I'll go out and look for her. You still have the video from your helmet, right?"

Tony nodded, tapping on his workbench a few times until it popped up. A first-person POV through the eyes of Iron Man, something that anyone would pay millions for. Usually he would sell this footage, make a lot off just a video of him flying over the skyline. An occasional peek to the left or right showing off his gauntlets and the amount of views would skyrocket (ha, skyrocket. See what I did there?). However, this particular video would have to stay a secret- there was an entire 10 seconds that showed a blast of light, which died down to reveal a demolished coffee shop, and in the middle of it all a teenage girl with glowing purple eyes and a heaving chest, who ran off immediately after the light died down.

Sam sighed, taking his hand off Tony's shoulder to run it through his hair. "Last known location?"

"The mutant hospital in Ohio. Apparently the place blew up… just like the last three places she's been to."

Sam nodded, already inputting the hospital's location into his suit's GPS. "I'll check it out, and if I find her I'll bring her back here, to a holding cell. We'll see what we can't find out from her then. Sound good?"

Tony nodded wordlessly, already pouring another glass of whiskey from the bar on the counter.

"And, Tony?"

"Hmm?"

"Take a shower, you smelly bastard."

-IDK HOW TO DO A LINE BREAK-

It had been days. Maybe even a couple weeks. And I still hadn't seen a single building.

It's almost as if they didn't want a rogue mutant escaping and attacking a nearby city. Weird.

The purple in my eyes had all but retreated, leaving behind a slight hint of the color if you closed your eyes and squinted, but it hasn't gotten as bright as it had been the night of my escape. I hadn't used any magic since then, either, so that probably has something to do with it.

I started humming The Farmer In The Dell to myself, just to make the time go by easier, and about halfway through it my third and final tank of backup gas ran out. I swerved to the side of the road and inched my way to a stop, the ambulance making one last feeble wheeze before dying completely.

Great.

I figured I couldn't be too far away from civilization, especially because I've been driving in one direction for so long, so my very smart brain said to start walking.

And, of course, because I'm an idiot, I did.

I did, however, remember to bring all the remaining granola bars and I.V. bags with me, though- after the second night I had put one of the needles in my arm and taped it in place. Unpleasant to constantly have it in there? Sure. But it would be much worse if I had to constantly take it out and put it back in. This way, I could just connect a tube up to my perpetual hand-needle and the other up to the bag, and I'd be set to just hang the bag up on one of my backpack straps and give it a squeeze every so often to make sure the fluid was getting to me.

Stretching my arms and legs, I scoured the ambulance one last time for anything else that might be useful, and once I had collected my bounty (three vials of morphine, a hypodermic needle, and a little pouch of mutant-enhancement juice, whatever that was) I set off.

Nothing like trekking hundreds of miles on an open road to make you miss your stolen ambulance.

It wasn't until I was about a mile away from said stolen ambulance that I heard it.

A whining sound, not unlike a small engine. I squeezed the I.V. attacked to my arm, just making sure I wasn't dehydrated and hallucinating. Nope, still there.

As it got louder, it occurred to me that I might actually want to look at whatever it was. I turned to face the source of the noise, but all I saw a was what had to be a bird, floating on thermals toward me.

Wait a minute… the air was completely still. That bird couldn't be riding thermals, right? It had to flap to fly. So why were its wings so still?

That's not a bird.

As it came closer to me, I was able to make out more- it was long, much longer than it should be, and what I thought were bird wings were far too square.

I turned and began running, trying to summon the pulsing purple energy like I had done so easily in the past, but it wouldn't appear. I could feel my eyes burn and my veins swell with the pressure, but the magic wouldn't manifest itself.

I slowed to a stop, deciding that I couldn't outrun the thing, but I might have a chance of getting up a shield if I focused hard enough.

Deep violet stained my veins and glowed in the palms of my hands, but all I could manage was a flicker of energy before it dissipated.

The thing was far too close for comfort, and I decided to just accept my death. I probably wasn't going anywhere anyways, might as well see what's about to bring my early demise.

It was a man. One with metal wings, propelled by rockets.

I froze in place, belatedly realizing I should come up with a plan, even if it is to just chug morphine and hope death doesn't hurt as much as I'm led to believe.

Wait, I can't just chug morphine, I'll probably die. And there's no time to hook up a bottle to my I.V., either. Great.

I shook as the bird-man landed in front of me, his metal wings retracting into his back. He extended a hand to me, and I almost screamed.

"Ah, I'm sorry. You probably don't know who I am. Kinda rare, but not unheard of."

I backed up a step, my hand furiously squeezing the I.V. bag until I could feel it rushing through my veins. I called my magic back up again, making sure to bring it all to my fists before raising them viciously into a fighting stance. "I'm not- I'm not afraid of you, bird-man. Are you with the tin can guy? You can go tell him to shove his paparazzi up his metal ass."

Surprisingly, the bird-man laughed, placing a hand on my shoulder. At first I thought it was to steady himself, because he seemed to be swaying, but then I felt the needle that was on his hand escape my shoulder, and I realized it was me.

The last words I heard from him before passing out were, "Don't worry. I'll get you somewhere safe."


End file.
